


azure

by unicornball



Series: Colors [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas needs some rest but then this happened, DWRColorsChallenge, Dean likes Cas' wings, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rutting, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: It’s not long after that he’s being tickled. He brushes at his arm, frowning. “Dammit, Sam. Knock it off.”

  “Apologies,” Castiel murmurs, removing his wing with an effort.

  Dean opens his eyes. Sam isn’t looming over him with a feather duster and a grin. He looks over his shoulder. At Cas. Looking oddly adorable all sleep rumpled and pink-cheeked. He frowns again, wondering why the hell Cas is tickling him, when he sees them.

  Wings.

  Big, dark wings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Today's color:_  
>  Azure  
> az·ure (aZHər/)
> 
> bright blue in color, like a cloudless sky.
> 
>  _Well, that made this pretty obvious what I’d be inspired to write lol I also worked in Wing Kink Wednesday because it’s my jam and this is a fic about Cas, so it was inevitable. (It’s set around season 5ish, but it’s not episode-specific.)_
> 
> _Enjoy._

Castiel pops into Dean's motel room. He pauses for a moment, unsure if he should surprise Dean. It's been some time since Dean availed himself to a willing, local woman and he has no interest in interrupting.

But, thankfully, Dean is alone. Even Sam is out.

He stumbles into a table and winces.

Dean is up like a shot, gun cocked and pointed at the sound before his eyes are even fully open. He blinks a few times, tossing his gun on the bed the moment he recognizes Cas' silhouette.

"Cas?"

Castiel shuffles closer to Dean, head lowered. He's not sure it was wise to come. He's interrupted Dean's sleep and that always makes for a grumpy Hunter.

"Dean. My apologies," Castiel murmurs, stumbling again with a grimace. Before he can fall, Dean is there, hands around his upper arms and holding him upright.

"Cas? You okay?" Dean asks, concern in his voice. He hasn't seen Cas like this often, weak and exhausted, but it's not usually a good sign. Cas leans into him with a soft grunt and he adjusts his grip and footing to take the angel's weight.

Castiel shakes his head once. "No," he admits softly. He can't keep from leaning into Dean, soaking up his warmth and strength. It surprises him how much he just wants to crawl into the lumpy bed with Dean and sleep for a week.

"I've—" He swallows thickly, eyes closing with exhaustion. "I've expended quite a bit of energy during my search."

Dean hums and takes a bit more of Cas' weight. He bites back the urge to tell Cas, again, that he's on a pointless errand, that his deadbeat dad isn't worth Cas exhausting himself. He knows Cas will listen about as well as he would so he focuses on something else.

He grunts softly as he shifts Cas. "Your Grace on E, man?"

Castiel huffs a tired laugh, understanding Dean's meaning. "Not entirely, Dean."

He wobbles when he tries to find his own feet and clutches at Dean's shoulder, his Grace flaring weakly as he brushes the faded Mark on Dean's shoulder. That subtle pulse, which is usually a bright starburst, is indicator enough he's dangerously weakened.

"I need to sleep," Castiel says, a hint of frustration in his voice at the very idea. He looks at Dean imploringly.

Dean sighs softly, but he's already nodding. Like he'd actually be able to say no...

"Yeah, okay, sure, Cas," he murmurs, moving them closer to the bed, struggling a little under the sheer weight of Cas. Dude must really be worn out if he's not able to keep his true-form light and Jimmy-sized.

Before Cas can flop onto the bed, Dean yanks the trench coat off. Cas doesn't usually care about comfort, but Dean fully intends to make him as comfortable as possible. Cas is mostly dead-weight but helps when he can, lifting arms and feet so Dean can get him down to his boxers and undershirt.

Cas yawns widely and blinks owlishly at him and Dean is nearly overcome with the urge to kiss him. It's not a new feeling, unfortunately, but it's wrong to even think it when Cas can't even keep his eyes open and blinking in sync.

He lets go and Cas basically face-plants onto his pillow, body relaxing and sleep-pliant moments later. Dean takes a deep breath, watching Cas' back move with deep breaths as he sleeps, oddly OK with Cas hogging his bed.

Dean looks to the other bed but pushes the idea away. Sam will be pissed if he comes back and there's no bed for him to fall into after hours at the library (and Dean will be pissed if Sam decides to share with Cas). So, he flops onto the mattress next to Cas, grumbling and grunting a little as he works the covers out from under Cas and tucks them both in.

He figures he'll be up for a few sleepless hours, unused to having someone next to him, too aware of Cas' heat and weight next to him, but he's fallen back asleep before he's even aware of it.

 

*✲ﾟ*｡*ﾟ✲*

 

Dean wakes slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. A warm weight against his back has him carefully turning his head, memory hazy as to why there'd be someone in his bed.

Oh.

Cas.

Right, the energizer angel was low and needed somewhere to recharge.

Part of him warms at the thought Cas would come to him, knowing he'd be safe and wanted. Another part prickles with irritation that Cas would wear himself out so damn bad— determined in his search, almost to the risk of his own well-being.

Not that he can really toss stones at someone for risking themselves for family... He just hates seeing Cas like this.

He glances at the clock—6:29 AM—and settles back into bed. It's too damn early to be up yet and Cas is still sleeping. He closes his eyes and tries to get back to sleep.

It's not long after that he's being tickled. He brushes at his arm, frowning. "Dammit, Sam. Knock it off."

"Apologies," Castiel murmurs, removing his wing with an effort.

Dean opens his eyes. Sam isn't looming over him with a feather duster and a grin. He rubs a fist into his eye and looks around the room to see the other bed still empty. He looks over his shoulder. At Cas. Looking oddly adorable all sleep rumpled and pink-cheeked. He frowns again, wondering why the hell Cas is tickling him, when he sees them.

Wings.

Big, dark wings.

"What the f—?" he breathes out, staring openly. One of the wings twitch and he pulls his gaze away with an effort, somehow knowing his staring is embarrassing Cas. "Dude."

Castiel shifts with unease. His wings flutter with his discomfort but don't retract like he wants. It's frustrating and a sure sign his Grace isn't anywhere near repleted. Dean is staring again, eyes wide, cheeks lightly pink, lips parted with... awe? It's probably the first time Dean's ever looked at him like this; like he realizes that he's a powerful being. His wings flutter with pleasure without his conscious permission.

He narrows his eyes and looks at Dean closely. "Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean mumbles, distracted. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch, but he has a feeling that's a big ass no-no, so he fists both hands in the blanket. Cas doesn't say anything and he finally looks away from Cas' (awesome, beautiful) wings to meet his eyes. He must still be asleep because this is unbelievable. Even for him. "What's with the wings, man?"

OK, he knew Cas had wings. He saw the damn things whenever Cas was tapping into his angel mojo hardcore, but that was only in shadow. He doesn't think Cas has ever flashed actual wing before and he can't stop staring. The room is too dark to see very well, but he's pretty sure there's some blue in there. A muted azure that almost matches Cas' eyes and he's just. Staring. He hasn't given any thought to what Cas' wings actually look like before. He's pretty sure he never would've come up with this.

He's leaning closer before he can really even think about it. Cas doesn't shy away, though. Not like he'd expect. Instead, one of the massive wings twitches and sweeps towards him, feathers brushing his cheek and shoulder. It's soft, softer than anything he's ever felt before and he's at a loss how to describe it.

"Why can I see your wings, Cas?" Dean asks softly, fingers brushing along a long, wide feather. He figures since Cas touched first, he can too. He expects something smoky and ethereal, not something solid like any of the bird's feathers he used to find and collect as a kid.

Castiel clears his throat, unnerved by the warmth and tingling he can feel from Dean's touch. It's radiating from the point of contact and sweeping all through his body. Dean shouldn't even be able to see his wings, let alone touch them. But it feels wonderful and he's not strong enough to refuse.

"My Grace—" he says softly, eyes half-closed as Dean's hand glides smoothly down his primaries. The rest of what he was going to say is forgotten, lost in a haze of sensation of Dean being so close and touching him, hands gentle on such an intimate part of him. His feathers fluff a little at the touch, wings arching towards Dean. He can't remember the last time another has touched his wings and he can't help himself.

Dean nods distractedly, fingers digging into feathers when Cas doesn't tell him to stop. They're so soft and warm, he feels it up his whole arm. "Yeah, I figured wings and Grace went together," he murmurs, gaze following his hand as he pets down the big feathers near Cas' back.

The little feathers underneath are puffy and softer, he wiggles his fingers in. Cas gasps sharply and he jerks his hand away. Jesus, he'd been so zoned out on petting Cas' feathers, he didn't even think if he'd be hurting them.

"Oh, shit. Sorry!"

Castiel slowly shakes his head and swallows thickly. He doesn't want Dean to be sorry—it had felt good. Warm pleasure still lingers in his belly. Dean's expression is pinched with concern and guilt. "It's... it wasn't pain," he says, choosing his words carefully.

"No?" Dean asks slowly, eyeing Cas closely for any half-truths. Cas shakes his head, eyes darting away. He reaches out and touches again, fingers gliding through sleep-mussed feathers, eyebrows raised as he watches Cas for signs of discomfort or pain. Dark wings sweep towards him again, the feathers brushing his cheek, fluffed up and soft. Cas makes a soft sound, eyes fluttering closed.

It takes a moment for him to realize— _Oh_.

"Oh," Dean breathes out, eyes wide. Cas _likes_ it. It feels good. Son of a bitch. What does it say about him that he wants to bury his hands in Cas' feathers and hear that sound again? "D'you like that?" he asks voice low and deep, face heating when he realizes how it came out. When he put Cas in his bed, it wasn't so he could fondle the dude. It's not like he's never thought about it, but he didn't think anything would actually happen.

But Cas is nodding, wings flicking up and close to him again. Dark feathers brush his arms and up his neck, a flash of black and azure, and he shivers. Any thoughts about how this might be a bad idea flutter away and he slides a hand into the small, close-set feathers again. He stares, mesmerized, as Cas' wings flutter and arch. Cas looks like he's really into it and Dean can't find a good reason to stop. There's a soft sound of pleasure and he's leaning closer.

"Holy shit, this is really doing it for you, isn't it?" he asks, shifting up onto his knees.

Castiel can only nod, too blissed to even consider lying, eyes tightly closed. Dean doesn't sound upset, not with the way his voice is deeper and a little breathy in a way he can only call seductive, but he doesn't want to risk looking and seeing the expression on Dean's face. Hands pet down his face instead of his feathers, Dean's warm hands cupping his face, and he opens is eyes, startled by the gentle touch.

"You okay? I mean, um, should I... stop?" Dean asks, looking at Cas closely. As much as he's enjoying this odd moment, he won't push if Cas isn't on board. This feels too intimate and he's oddly OK with it. Cas nods slow and sure, eyes opening to give Dean an intense look he can't possibly misinterpret. "They, uh, look a little banged up. Want me to help?"

Dean knows it sounds like a cheesy come-on, but he means it. He's no expert on wings or feathers, but Cas' wings look a little worse for wear and he can only imagine how uncomfortable it must feel now that they're solid and flapping around lazily. He ducks, narrowly avoiding a wing to the head when Cas turns over with a rustle of sheets and feathers. He gets closer, looking down at Cas for a moment to figure out how to do this. He gives a mental shrug and just settles on top of him.

He doesn't think about the fact that he's straddling Cas' thighs, just dives right in. Cas' wings spread out, nearly bumping the walls. Cas' body and wings both settle onto the mattress under him with a soft sigh. He doesn't know where to start, so he just slides his hands down the larger feathers, most of them looking a little crooked and fluffed in a way that looks awkward (but kind of like an adorable cowlick).

He scoots farther down Cas' body so he can reach the feathers better, settling back down again. It's... not as weird as he thought it would be and he quickly gets into a rhythm; fingers combing through Cas' feathers, pressing the larger ones between his palms, until they lay flat and smooth.

He's running his hands down and between the heavy wings, pressing in hard along Cas' spine. Cas groans lowly and he grins. He works his hands up to the base of the huge wings when Cas jumps, groaning as his body twists under Dean. He pauses, fingers bumping over something. He presses and Cas' groans again, deep and guttural. He shifts in his spot on Cas and tries not to think of it as a sex sound. Because son of a bitch it sounded like a sex sound.

"Dean," Castiel grinds out. He doesn't know if it's chastisement or in warning. As much as any thorough wing grooming requires oil, he hadn't anticipated his body's reaction to Dean touching his uropygial gland. He doesn't recall it ever feeling so acutely pleasurable before.

Dean gently rolls the bump between his finger and thumb, grinning when Cas gasps and buries his face in the pillow. "Wow," he murmurs, easing away from the spot and massaging around it. His fingers are damp and slick but he figures it's for the feathers. He works the oil in and smiles with satisfaction to see the dark feathers gleam brightly. The azure patterns bright even in the gloom, feathers laying flat and uniform.

By the fourth pass to the bump, he's very aware Cas is getting off on it. He just doesn't know why. Not that it matters, because he's just as turned on by every hitched breath and soft groan, every twitch of Cas' hips into the mattress. Every time Cas' wings twitch up and feathers caress his arm or cheek.

He leans down, running his hands over Cas' wings as he gets close enough to whisper. "Almost done."

Castiel exhales shakily, pressing his hips down into the bed as subtly as he can. He can feel Dean's arousal pressing against the back of his thigh but he doesn't think it means anything because Dean hasn't done anything but groom his wings. He sinks into the feel of Dean's hands on him, focusing on Dean's careful touch and the pleasant weight on top of him. His wings shift under Dean's hands and he hears Dean's soft chuckle, pleasure warming through him to know Dean's enjoying this, too. That he's not unsettled by his wings, proof he's not at all human.

He sucks in a breath when Dean leans in close again, the softness of Dean's mouth and rough brush of stubble against his jaw as intoxicating as calloused hands sliding down his sides to stroke and comb through the soft under feathers. His eyes close again and he groans softly, glands leaking freely now even without Dean touching them.

It's almost obscene how much is dripping down his sides and onto the cheap bedding. His wings flap as he adjusts his hips and pleasure sparks through him. He turns his face into his pillow in an attempt to muffle the moan.

Dean watches the way Cas' wings settle against his back, quivering a little as Cas tries to hide a moan in the cheap pillow again. He leans in close again, fingers splaying out and sliding through the oil and he hears a deep moan. He feels himself twitch against the small of Cas' back and any attempt at keeping this platonic, _just helping a buddy out_ , flies out the window when he purposely ruts against Cas. It probably trotted away the moment he'd practically kissed him a few moments ago.

Castiel squirms a little at the feel of Dean pressed all along his back, warm breath fanning over the flushed skin at the nape of his neck and over his freshly groomed feathers. He shudders when Dean's mouth is back near his jaw, fervently wishing Dean will press them against him...

Dean licks his lips as he looks at Cas, skin flushed, wings relaxed and beautiful. He knows he could slide off the bed, pat Cas on the back with a 'all done, buddy' and run into the shower and deal with the hard-on alone.

He's pretty sure he could also do it right here, right now, with Cas and it'd be even better. It takes him a minute to screw up his courage, lightly tracing the azure patterns on Cas' feathers with his fingertips. Cas makes a soft sound, wings fluttering with pleasure.

Finally, he can't take it anymore. He slides his hands down Cas' arms as he presses himself flush against Cas' back. He gives into the urge to nuzzle at the back of Cas' neck, sweat-damp curls tickling his nose.

"Can I—?"

"Yes," Castiel immediately says. He doesn't even really care what Dean wants to do.

He's surprised when Dean leans in and kisses him, the angle is awkward until he moves his head. He sighs into it, lips practically tingling at the feel. Dean's hand slide down his slick back and around his sides, bold and sure as he worms between him and the mattress. He huffs a soft sound as Dean's hands keep going down.

Dean adjusts his knees so he's pressed right up against Cas, moaning when they finally touch. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on Cas' temple, and pants softly. It's overwhelming and they're not even naked. He shifts his hips, rutting against Cas and it feels awesome. Cas makes a sound that has him pressing harder with a soft grunt, face buried in Cas' neck.

He mutters a curse and manages to get his hand over Cas' dick, fingers fumbling over the thin fabric of his boxers. It's damp and hot with precome and he bites out another curse, eyes closing with pleasure. He cups his hand around Cas the best he can, shifting his hips so he's snug in the crease of Cas' ass and can't keep his hips still any more. He drops his head with a moan at the feel of Cas surrounding him and pressing hot and hard into his hand. Next time, they're getting naked and he's getting his hands right on skin.

He wishes he had the patience for something a little better than a dry hump against Cas' ass but Cas isn't complaining—he's got a hand up and around the back of Dean's neck as he ruts into Dean's hand and moaning low, the gravel in his voice vibrating against his chest, wings flapping a little as he ruts into the bed and his hand. He kisses any part of Cas he can reach, dragging his chin across the base of Cas' wings a few times when he sees Cas shudder and moan lewdly.

Dean doesn't realize how worked up Cas was until Cas is coming less than a minute later with a long shuddering groan, wings flapping and twitching up with each jerk of his hips. It's one of the hottest things he's seen and he's moaning unashamedly as he thrusts hard and uncoordinated against Cas. He had no idea that feeling Cas come hot and wet across his hand, body tensing under him, would be enough to get him coming in his damn boxers but there it is.

He goes limp over Cas' back, face pillowed between Cas' wings as he gets his breath back. He's about to roll off, not wanting to squish Cas under his dead weight, but Cas makes a soft noise of protest and nudges him back with a wing. Cas relaxes under him and he sighs softly, enjoying the moment, lips pressed to Cas' shoulder.

Dean runs his hands down Cas' sides, patting his hip as he finally rolls off. As much as he was enjoying the moment, the weird cuddling nice, but he has zero interest in Sam catching them like this whenever he wanders back to their room.

It takes a moment to get his to his knees so he won't pinch Cas' wings or kick him and he shakily gets to his feet. He holds out a hand, grinning when Cas looks up at him with surprise.

"Shower time, man. You're a mess."

And he knows Cas could probably clean himself up with a snap of his fingers, mojo scrubbing the mess away in a blink, but he figures Cas should save the energy. Cas must be thinking the same thing because he takes Dean's hand without comment.

The excited look on Cas' face as he scrambles up, fingers slotting with his eagerly, has him practically skipping to the motel's tiny bathroom.


End file.
